Murder on the Moonlight
by stress
Summary: AU, All Human. There’s been a murder and it’s up to Bella Swan to discover whodunit. On this cruise ship, there's no lacking of suspects. Was it the honeymooning newlyweds, the young fashion designer or, perhaps, that brooding, handsome stranger?
1. Free Tickets and Food Poisoning

Disclaimer: _The characters in this story are the property of Stephenie Meyer and are only used for fan related purposes. _

* * *

**Murder on the Moonlight**

--

The tickets were free, an early birthday gift from my mom and Phil. It wasn't really my thing, a three day cruise touring Seattle and most of the Pacific Northwest, but Jake had been super excited when the birthday card arrived unexpectedly two weeks ago. There were two of them included and he'd practically begged me to let him take one of them.

I hadn't had the heart to tell him that I'd rather sing karaoke in front of half of La Push than go on a cruise. When his pleading and pouting finally wore me down enough that I promised to a) go on this boat and b) take him along, his overwhelming excitement was almost hard to handle. But that was Jacob Black for you.

I'd almost wished that my dad might ban me from even stepping foot on the cruise liner. I couldn't see how Charlie would be okay with Jake and me sharing a cabin on a huge boat for three nights without a chaperone. Sure, Jake has been my best friend for years now—ever since I moved to Forks, Washington to leave with my dad—but he was still a _boy_. And, as much as my dad liked to pretend otherwise, I was a girl.

But then Charlie had to go and do the coolest thing he's ever done in all my seventeen years: he said I could go. There were a couple of stipulations—my cell phone must be charged and ready at all times, for one—but they all paled in comparison to Charlie's sudden coolness.

As the last weekend in August approached, I found myself, quite unwillingly and definitely unintentionally, looking forward to this trip. Things had started to get a little… _iffy _between me and Jake lately. This time alone was definitely something we needed. No fathers breathing down our necks, no friends butting in—by the time this trip was over, I'd either be his girl friend or his girlfriend.

Yeah, that kind of _iffy…_

To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for as I entered my senior year at Forks High. School was starting up soon and, as far as I knew, this weekend was my last chance to make some kind of sense out of my relationship with Jake before he went back to school on the reservation and I did my own thing in town.

Maybe Renee had been on to something when she sent those tickets, after all. I could always count on my mom to, in that scatterbrained yet astute way she had, know exactly what was going on. Even though we were thousands of miles apart—her in Florida with Phil, me in Forks with my dad—she knew me better than anyone. Well, except for Jacob, of course.

And then that bonehead had to go and get food poisoning. On the night before the stupid cruise left port, too.

Idiot.

I mean, Jake had an iron stomach. I'd seen him hit the One Stop Burger Shop, eat four of their Specials and still manage to find room for desert. I just couldn't imagine him getting sick from one bad piece of chicken.

Yet, that was exactly what Billy Black told Charlie when he called to tell me that Jake couldn't go on the trip anymore. He sounded sorry enough and I could hear Jake in the background, retching so loud that I was glad that he wasn't going. He sounded _awful._

But, in that selfish part of my brain that I didn't want to listen to but couldn't ignore, I realized that his sudden illness left me with an extra ticket and not enough time to cancel. Who, then, could I get to take his place?

Mike Newton had to work at his parent's store and, even then, I highly doubted Charlie's newfound coolness would extend to letting me share a cabin with him. Angela Weber was busy, and I would go on this trip alone before I even thought of asking Lauren Mallory.

It probably wasn't the best idea, though, to mention that fact out loud. I don't know if Billy had me on speakerphone or if Jacob's hearing was just that good, but I heard him holler that it would be best if I just went on my own. After all, didn't I like my alone time as much as anyone else?

And that was how I found myself standing on Pier 66 at the Bell Street Pier Cruise Terminal in Seattle. The Celebrity Moonlight was looming in front of me. The medium-sized white cruise ship—the 'pearl of the Celebrity Cruise line', according to the website I found online—was simply intimidating. I felt myself shrink away from it as I clasped my cursed ticket in my white hand. It wasn't as long or as imposing as some of the other ships that were moored but there was definitely something this one, the Moonlight, that made me feel apprehensive.

Honestly, I don't know how I let people talk me into these things.

--

Since she was a schoolteacher, I knew Renee didn't really have money to spend on cruise tickets. I guess she thought that an eighteenth birthday was special and worth a bit of treat but I wasn't surprised when I learned my room was on the aft of the boat, on the inside. They were the cheapest of the cabins but, hey… it was still a cruise.

After boarding, which took much longer than I thought it would, I went off in search of my room. That took even longer; I wasn't very good with directions and I think I took two left turns and bothered three flustered stewards before I got pointed in the right direction.

Finally, my hands almost cramped around the handles of my two blue duffel bags, I found it. Room #103.

Considering how many rooms had to be on this ship, I wasn't startled to see that it was maybe half as big as my bedroom back home—and even that was closer to being closet-sized than anything else. There were two beds—Charlie would've been glad to know that they were bunk beds—and a small refrigerator with a see-thru door.

I made myself a promise that, no matter how hungry I was or how tempting anything in that mini-fridge looked, I wouldn't buy anything. I had a part time job and any money I made was for college; I couldn't afford a four dollar Snickers bar.

But, of course, my stomach had no idea of the value of a dollar. It took one look at the chips and the candy that the ever-so-helpful crew of the Moonlight had stocked and decided it was starving. It grumbled so loud that I was surprised that my next door neighbor didn't knock on my door to ask if I heard anything strange rumbling since the boat hadn't actually started moving yet.

After dropping my bags at the foot of the bunks, I rummaged around my shorts pocket for some loose change. I was pretty sure that I passed a more reasonably priced vending machine on my wayward journey across the ship. Without having to worry about a roommate, I left my bags on the floor and crossed the five steps that it took to make it to the door.

It swung in easily but, in my hurry to escape the confining cabin, I didn't notice the small bump between my room and the hallway on the cruise ship's inside. My sneaker caught against it and, courtesy of my horrible sense of balance, I started to fall forward.

Like they do in the movies, I tried to wave my arms in a frantic fashion in order to regain my balance but all I succeeded in doing was hitting my hand against something really hard as my face was very quickly heading towards the shiny, shellacked floor. I just hoped that I didn't break anything. I hadn't had the chance to acquaint myself with the advertised medical center on board yet.

But then I stopped. My nose only a couple of feet away from the floor, I stopped falling. And I suddenly knew that the something hard that my fist had hit hadn't been part of the ship.

"My, my… aren't we clumsy?"

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Author's Note: _And we're off!_

_And, yes, I know I shouldn't be starting something new but, well, I can't help it. After reading non-stop Agatha Christie for weeks, I wanted to try my hands at a murder mystery. At the same time, I'm going to try my hand at an all human AU fic. It should _definitely _be interesting!_


	2. Green Eyes and Pink Luggage

Disclaimer: _The characters in this story are the property of Stephenie Meyer and are only used for fan related purposes. _

* * *

**Murder on the Moonlight**

--

The first thing I thought was that I was dreaming. That I'd imagined my fall being stopped and that, in all actuality, I'd fallen _hard _and smacked my head on that fake wood floor. Smacked it so hard, in fact, that I'd passed out and was currently hallucinating that some strong someone had caught me and, in the most musical voice I'd ever heard, was now teasing me. No guy could have a voice that sounded as velvety smooth as that and be _real_.

My hallucination seemed to be waiting for me to say something, to thank him maybe, because he didn't say another word. Instead, he just stood there, hovering behind me. He must have been quite strong—or, at least, I must have imagined him to be a present day Hercules—because he was able to, by gripping me under my arms, keep my body positioned in a nearly horizontal position. If I crossed my eyes, I could almost see my panicked reflection in the shiny floor.

He—and it had to be a he—chuckled under his breath as I, most definitely panicky, struggled to get myself to my feet. I was eager to give myself a pinch and, when I came to again and my hallucination disappeared, assess the damage. Being clumsy was something I was (unfortunately) used to. I just hoped I didn't break my nose again. No matter what anyone says, the third time is _not _the charm.

"Here, let me." His touch was light on my arms and, before I knew it, he'd helped me get back on my feet. "There. No blood, no foul, hm?"

Even if I was dreaming, my mother had instilled enough manners in me that I knew it was bad form to ignore someone when they were addressing you so clearly—especially after they had done so much to help you.

And then I turned around and, for the first time, got a glimpse of my savior. All words fled from my head and I'm pretty sure I was gawking.

If I hadn't been before, I was even more certain that he was a figment of my overactive imagination. There was no way someone who looked _this _good would even stop to give me the time of day, let alone save me from cracking my skull. Shoot, I didn't think that guys even existed who looked like him!

He was taller than me but, considering I was only five four myself, that wasn't saying much. Still, I had to tilt my head back a bit to get a full look at his face. And what a face it was! His face was pale, probably even paler than mine, but it was simply beautiful. My first impression was that this guy was a piece of art brought to life. His every feature seemed to have been chiseled from the brain of one of the masters; his green eyes were the deepest green I'd ever seen in my life. Even his hair—a bronze color that seemed to suit his pale coloring perfectly—was gorgeous.

There was a crooked smile on his face as he looked down at me. There was an undeniable humor written on his face; his green eyes seemed to glitter in amusement.

I couldn't help it. Maybe it was the way this… this _god _seemed to gaze down at me or maybe it was because I sincerely believed that I was really laying passed out just outside my cabin, but I really couldn't help it. Sometimes my mouth betrayed me before it got the okay from my brain.

"Are you… are you for real?"

I don't know what it was that I said. I hadn't meant to offend him and, yeah, I probably should have offered my thanks for his aid before I said anything else, but I really couldn't help it. And I honestly can't say that I expected my question to cause the reaction that he had.

His smile immediately slid off of his face and I saw that his jaw locked. His eyes narrowed and, while I couldn't be sure whether he was looking at me or something just past me, there was a darkness there that made them look closer to black than green.

I swear, if this guy could growl like a dog, he would've been. He looked that intense all of a sudden. Not to mention scary.

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't tear my gaze away from him.

"Goodbye," he said flatly, turning his head so that he wasn't looking anywhere near me at all now. With a jerk of his chin and a small nod, he spun gracefully on his heel and, faster than I would have imagined, he was gone. Disappearing around the closes corner, my hallucination vanished right before my eyes.

I only noticed then just how fast my heart was beating. Chewing lightly on my bottom lip, I stood staring at the spot where he had stood long after he left.

Now, what was _that _about?

I had no idea…

--

As soon as I had some chocolate in me and half of a bottle of Coke, I finally came to terms with the fact that I really wasn't dreaming. I didn't know if I was sad or happy about that.

On the one hand, it was pretty nice knowing that I was currently on a cruise with one of the most beautiful boys I've ever seen in my entire life. But, on the other hand, if I accepted that, than I had to accept that I'd made a class A idiot out of myself by tripping right in front of him; that, and that he obviously was angry at me about something.

In the end, I decided it didn't really matter. As far as I was concerned, I was a klutz. Falling flat on my face was just something that I did on a nearly daily basis. So what if some random stranger saw me do it? I was lucky that he'd had quick enough reflexes that he prevented me from actually getting hurt an hour into this cruise.

Besides, I was only going to be on this cruise for four days. When I was done, there was still my relationship to Jake to deal with. The last thing I needed was a chance encounter with a handsome guy to ruin anything and everything I had with Jacob Black.

Right?

Right.

I nodded to myself before taking another swig of my soda. I was pretty proud that I was able to find the vending machines without getting lost or asking for any help. It wasn't that far and I only took a wrong turn once. At least now, if I needed to know where there was an elevator to the lower levels, I could find it.

My sense of direction wasn't so bad that I had trouble finding my way back to my cabin. I admit, I did dally a bit along the edge of the cruise ship. Not surprisingly, the ship still hadn't started moving yet. When I was lingering along the edge, I saw that people were still boarding. I guess I hadn't realized how early I'd gotten to the pier.

The crowd around the gangplank had thinned considerably as I watched, eating my candy bar and chugging my Coke. I know that I was probably acting childish but, in the back of my mind, I knew I was taking my time because I was a little wary of running into that green-eyed stranger again. I don't know where he'd gone after he left me in the hallway or if he was even supposed to be in that part of the ship to begin with but I was being careful.

I hadn't forgotten that strange look in his eyes. I never wanted to see it again.

Tapping my fingers absently against the side of my jeans, I finally made it back to my room. There was no sign of him hanging around the hallway, or anyone for that matter. I was alone and I was glad. Maybe Jake _was _right—maybe I did like my solitude.

I was alone for a grand total of five seconds. Five seconds, the amount of time it took me to use my room key and open my door.

I don't know what I saw first: the garish pink luggage cases that took up much of the room or the short, smiling girl who seemed to be attached to ten pounds of big, black curly hair. Either way, I was pretty darn surprised to see them both.

"Oh, hi there!"

"H-hello." I lingered in the doorway, my brown eyes opened wide in surprise. For a second, I was almost positive that I was in the wrong room. But then I glanced down at the key in my hand and realized that that was simply wishful thinking. I really didn't think a fancy ship like the Moonlight would have the same lock and key for every one of their doors.

She was standing in the center of four or five large _pink _suitcases. Before I interrupted her, I think she'd been in the middle of wondering where she was going to keep all of her cases. I didn't pity her the task; I was praying that there was room for my duffel bags.

As if I needed further confirmation that I was in the right room, I could see the edge of my blue bags sticking out from behind this girl's pile. No doubt about it, this was the right place. But what was she doing here?

Before I had the chance to ask her myself, she shot her hand out in front of me and bounded forward, nearly jumping over one fallen case in her hurry to reach me. "You must be Isabella Swan," she said, extending her hand out towards me. Her nails were perfectly manicured and she made my stubs look rather homely in comparison.

"Bella," I corrected automatically, hesitantly offering her my hand in return.

"Bella? I love your name, it's so pretty!" She took my hand and, after giving it a vigorous shake, promptly let go. I felt the vibrations all the way up to my shoulder. "My name is Jessica. Jessica Stanley, actually, and I guess I'm going to be your roommate for this cruise! Isn't this so exciting? I could just die!"

"My… my roommate?"

Nodding as she retook her place at the center of her luggage altar, she smiled brightly at me. "Yup! It's so great! I got the call this morning that a vacancy opened up on board and of course I jumped at it. I mean, who could pass up a ride on the Moonlight?"

As her gushing voice washed over me, I could think of one person.

Hmm… I wonder if the boat has gone out to sea yet.

* * *

Author's Note: _I'm so glad that you guys actually responded to this story. It's only just started and I'm already having a ball with the characters! And, don't worry, there's definitely more to that brooding, handsome stranger ;) We can't let poor Bella have it too easy._


	3. Hurricane Jessica

Disclaimer: _The characters in this story are the property of Stephenie Meyer and are only used for fan related purposes. _

* * *

**Murder on the Moonlight**

--

She was still going on and on about something, her voice excited and really loud, but I realized after a couple of seconds that I'd tuned her out. I think I was standing there, dumbfounded, instead. Jessica didn't even notice. She was too busy bending over her suitcases, trying to make some sense of where she was going to store them.

"… I couldn't believe my luck, Bella! I'd been waiting all summer to go but all the tickets were booked. They tell me that this cabin was booked too, but your old roomie called in sick and you weren't bringing anyone else. Well, of course I didn't mind buying out that ticket, and I'm sure we're going to get along great!"

I was able to catch the last of what she said so, when she popped her head back up and smiled hugely at me, I was just in time to offer a half-smile back. "Great," I mimicked, my voice nowhere near as happy as hers.

I was going to kill Jacob. I never thought of him as the responsible type—why would he go ahead and call the Moonlight's staff behind my back and let him know that his ticket wasn't being used? I could have sworn that there was a no cancellation clause on the brochure… but I guess it didn't really matter now, did it? I was stuck on this cruise with some overly exuberant stranger for the next four days.

Or was I?

If the boat hadn't left yet—

My thought was cut off when a loud whistle erupted through the air, causing the boat to shudder a bit. Jessica just managed to stay on her feet as I stumbled and fell back against the door. Luckily for me, I hit my shoulder instead of the back of my head, warranting a bruise instead of a concussion. I sighed. This boat seemed determined to send me to the hospital.

And now, with the departing whistle, I was stuck on it. I just hope I survived this cruise.

As soon as she realized what the whistle meant, Jessica squealed. "Here we go!"

I nodded. Aware that I was still hovering in the doorway—for just a second, I debated opening the door and making a break for it; I wasn't that strong of a swimmer but we couldn't have gone _that_ far—I shrugged my shoulders and, carefully stepping around her suitcases, I made it over to the bunks.

When I got closer to her, I was able to get a better look at her. She was shorter than me but a pair of three inch heels and her big, lively hair made her look taller. She had a pretty enough face but she was wearing far too much make-up; her clothes were too tight for my tastes but she could pull it off. I would never dare.

Her heavily made-up eyes were watching me intently as I crossed the small, cramped cabin. As soon as I stopped, leaning against the edge of the bunks so I wouldn't fall, she smiled again. "Are you a top bunk sort of girl, or a bottom?" she asked, gesturing towards the beds with one of her long fingernails. "I could sleep on either one," she added, giggling, "but I'm not sure we're going to be doing too much sleeping! Oh, it's going to be so much fun!"

My face must have paled then. I don't know about her, but I liked my sleep—I just had the very unfortunate habit of talking in my sleep. I'd almost forgotten about it… what was I going to do now, sleeping in a room with a stranger? Especially a stranger who didn't actually plan on sleeping?

This trip was getting worse and worse as every minute passed. First, that strange guy and his mood swing of doom, then an unwelcome roommate and now this. Maybe Jessica _was _right. I didn't think I could sleep _now_.

Still, I could tell that she was waiting for me to answer her. I shrugged again. "The bottom bunk is fine, I guess," I told her, already bending down so that I was picking up my two bags. I hurriedly tossed them on the bottom bunk before she could say anything. There was no way I was sleeping in a top bunk. If I even managed to fall asleep, I could just see myself falling right out of it.

But Jessica didn't seem to mind. Honestly, I didn't think anything could faze this girl.

"Awesome! I was hoping you would take the bottom bunk. Me, I like to be on top!" She giggled again, a giggle that I swear was almost a snort. Her face flushed underneath that pound of make-up and I shook my head. She seemed to think something she said was funny.

I didn't get it.

When I didn't laugh, she was able to get herself under control. She took another glance at her luggage, then around the small room, before shaking her head. "There is no way I can deal with all this right now, I'm way too excited," she bubbled, her grin back in place. "We can worry about unpacking later, right, Bella? Why don't we go check out the Moonlight first? I hear they have some good looking guys in this wing!"

Somehow, I wasn't surprised that she would have guys on the mind—that, or that she would have already found a way to discover the attractiveness of our fellow passengers.

As I thought about what she said, my mind immediately fell on that bronze-haired, green-eyed stranger _I'd _already met. To call him good looking was an understatement. I can only imagine how Jessica would react if she had seen him. I had a feeling that a lot of squealing and exclamation marks would figure in.

Though it might be worth it to see both her and his reactions should the two of them meet, I didn't think I wanted to stumble across him again. There was something strange about him—and I hadn't forgotten that mean look he'd given me either. As far as I was concerned, I'd be better off spending the rest of my trip in my room. Especially if I'd get to be alone in it.

I wonder if this boat has room service…

Shaking my head, I told her, "I don't think so, Jessica. I really should unpack some of my stuff first." I tried to sound apologetic.

Her lips turned down right away, her delighted smile a disappointed frown. "Are you kidding? You'd rather do _that_ instead of exploring this amazing ship?"

Actually, yes. I did. I don't know why she had to look so surprised that a teenager _wanted _to be responsible.

I tried to look apologetic, too. I knew I was a pretty bad actress—and an even worse liar—but I wanted her to leave me alone, at least for a few minutes. If I was going to have to spend the rest of my trip with her, I needed to get myself mentally prepared first.

"The way I see it, we'll be on this ship for the next four days," I said, trying to explain, "and there'll be more than enough time to, um, explore it. I really don't think I'm gonna want to go through my clothes and stuff later if I explore first. I should do it first."

She cocked her head to her side as if she was really trying to understand what I was saying. She looked a little confused but that confusion didn't last. Almost immediately, her smile was back and she was nodding. "I guess that makes sense. But not for me… procrastination is my middle name!" She giggled again. "Well, it's not, but you know what I mean, right?"

"Uh… sure."

"Great!" Pausing for a second, she seemed to be thinking about something. I found out what a second later. "You're gonna come out soon, though, huh?"

I nodded. "As soon as I'm done." I doubted she'd let me stay in any longer than that.

"Amazing! Then I'll see you then."

"O-kay…"

If she heard my lack of enthusiasm, she didn't say anything. In fact, I don't think she did. Jessica didn't seem all that perceptive to me.

Instead, she stepped over her suitcase altar before turning around to face me. "Bye, Bella!" she said excitedly, waving her hand energetically as she bounced over to the cabin door. She swung it inward, resting her back against it as she looked over at me again. "I'll make sure to save you a seat at lunch!"

I wondered where in my three word answers I gave her the impression that I wanted to sit down and eat with her before deciding that it didn't matter. She seemed a nice enough girl and, besides, I would have to spend the next three nights and four days in her company now that she was rooming in the same cabin as me.

We wouldn't be best friends for life or anything but I could at least act civilly towards her. After all, it wasn't _her _fault that Jake had to go and come down with food poisoning at the last minute.

"That'll be… great," I said, trying my best to sound sincere. It wasn't that difficult. In a way, her obvious enthusiasm was catching. "I'll see you soon."

If her smile was any brighter I would have to shield my eyes. It had to hurt, the way she made her lips so wide. Shoot, _my_ mouth was wincing in sympathy.

"Now, don't take too long. Oh, we're going to have so much fun, roomie!"

With a tightlipped smile and a half-hearted wave in return, I watched as the back of Jessica's curly black hair disappeared out through the doorway. The door shut with a near silent _click_; as she scurried away down the hallway, I could hear the tapping of her heels as she left me by myself.

I let my smile slide right off of my face as soon as the _clack—clack—clack _of her shoes died out. Pushing my lanky brown hair out of my face, I bent down at my waist and reached for one of my twin duffel bags. They looked even more piddling when, out of the corner of my eye, I spied Jessica's matching pink luggage set.

Glancing around the cramped cabin with its bunk beds, I sighed and, after setting it on top of one of the two dressers, started to unzip the first of my bags. I tried my best not to think about the strange boy I met or the girl I was going to have share such close quarters with for three long days. I seriously hoped that Jacob's food poisoning was _really _bothering him at the moment. For bailing on me like this, he deserved it.

Fun. Somehow I doubted I would be using that word half as much as her.


	4. Nausea and Nosiness

Disclaimer: _The characters in this story are the property of Stephenie Meyer and are only used for fan related purposes. _

* * *

**Murder on the Moonlight**

--

I was right.

Groaning as my stomach heaved, I rested my head against the cool glass of the taunting mini-fridge. So desperate for a little relief, I didn't even notice how delicious the chocolate bar looked in there.

Now, I knew I got my motion sickness but I guess, in the excitement of going on this cruise, I'd forgotten that I also got seasick. I blamed Jacob for that—if he hadn't been so gung-ho that we take this four day trip, I never would have stepped foot on this boat. Not to mention the fact that I'd wished him all the pain in the world with his food poisoning. Now _I _was the one who was having a hard time keeping their breakfast down.

And it's only been twenty minutes since the stupid boat left port…

The nausea had kicked in almost immediately after Jessica left, which kind of amused me a little. You would think her overexcitement would invoke my gag reflex more than the gentle swaying of a cruise ship. Annoying or not, though, her appearance had been a huge distraction. Without that distraction, there was nothing to waylay that 'I'm gonna throw up' signals from my brain to my stomach.

My mouth was so dry I felt like I'd swallowed some sandpaper and chased it with a handful of cotton balls. I gulped a few times, hoping the horrible feeling would pass.

After a few more minutes of dry heaves and nasty hiccups, the nausea finally relented. My head was pounding, my eyes were tearing and the smell of the ocean would surely make it all worse, but at least I'd made it through the worst of it without puking on anything.

I had the feeling that, no matter how friendly Jessica seemed, that friendliness would not last if I threw up all over her fancy luggage.

Once I was certain that I could stand up without any dizzy spells knocking me back down, I slowly got to my shaky feet. I nearly tripped over my duffel bag. When the first wave of nausea hit, I'd dropped the half-empty bag to the ground. It was still there, lying forgotten; some underwear, my headphones and a bag of toiletries was all spilled out on the floor.

Wrapping my arm around my queasy stomach, I used the toe of my sneakered foot to gently knock my strewn belongings back in the bag. Then, since the bag was still in my way, I gently kicked it back over the bunks.

You know, Jessica was right. I should've just unpacked later.

When I'd been lying on the floor, moaning to myself, I'd seen a small door on the opposite end of our cabin and I hoped beyond all hope that it led to a bathroom. I didn't have time before the first bout of seasickness really kicked in to find out what was behind the door, but I was back on my feet again and definitely curious. If I got sick again, it would be good if this room has a toilet to be sick in.

Thank the Moonlight gods, it _was _a bathroom! I don't know what I would have done without it—not taken a shower for a couple days, for one. True, it was even more cramped than the cabin, but there was a shower, a toilet, a sink and small vanity complete with a mirror. I bet Jessica would get a lot of use out of that.

I didn't have to actually _use _the bathroom yet but, considering how shaky I still felt, I thought it was a good idea to rinse my face with some cold water or something. Anything to help me feel better faster.

It took me a couple of seconds—and a bruised palm—to realize that the taps on the sink were ornamental; another few seconds and I figured out that, in order to turn the faucet on, I needed to stick my hands under the spout. The water that rushed out was cool and, after splashing my face and patting it dry with a hand towel, I _was _feeling better.

I wouldn't be able to run a marathon or spin circles in the middle of the floor right away but I was pretty sure I could make it out of the cabin without getting that sick again. Who knows? Maybe the salty air would actually be good for me.

And, I did tell Jessica that I would be out on deck soon. It was only right that I left our room eventually.

Besides, if I didn't, she knew where to find me.

--

I didn't know where to look for Jessica. The ship was pretty big. Add in my questionable sense of direction and I'd be lucky if I didn't get lost while trying to search her out.

My best bet, I decided, was to take something she'd said and go with that. When we were in our cabin, she'd mentioned saving me a seat for lunch; maybe, if I could find the dining area, then I could find Jessica. If not… well, I did try.

Courtesy of my lingering queasiness, I knew I wasn't about to try to eat anything. But, if I was lucky, maybe the kitchen had some alka-seltzer or a couple of Dramamines. I'd even drink some ginger ale at this point. Anything to settle my stomach.

The dining room on the deck, when I finally found it, was impressively decorated and sparkling clean, but not very large. I figured it must not be the only one—I really needed to find a map of this ship—and that made me frustrated. On the one hand, if this _was_ the place Jessica came to eat lunch, then it wouldn't be all that difficult to find her; on the other, if her explorations had taken her all over the Moonlight, then she might have stopped to eat lunch somewhere else entirely.

Shaking my head, ignoring my lingering headache, I chose to just sit down at an empty seat and hope for the best. I think I would have been better off in the long run if I didn't have a roommate at all—trying to keep this Jessica girl happy was taking too much out of me.

As if I were sitting in a restaurant, a uniformed waiter came over immediately to see what I needed. Without paying much attention to him, I ordered a glass of ginger ale and mumbled something about waiting for someone. The room smelled strongly of all different sorts of good and, as soon as I opened my mouth, I felt incredible nauseous again.

If the waiter noticed anything strange about my behavior he didn't show it. He nodded once, offered me a small smile and hurried off to help the elderly couple who'd taken a seat at a table close to mine.

Eager to take my mind off of the food smells and the havoc they were wreaking on my unsettled stomach, I propped my chin on my hand and began to take in everything around me. Maybe, if I looked real hard, I'd find Jessica.

To my surprise—and partly to my chagrin—I _did_.

She was standing on my side, maybe seven or eight tables down. She wasn't sitting but, instead, was leaning flirtatiously in to talk to someone who _was _sitting at the table. He was a good-looking guy—strong features, dimpled smile and black curls to rival Jessica's—but too big and bearlike for my tastes. Full of muscles, too.

Feeling something like a spy, I watched the two of them from my table. I couldn't hear what they were saying but I saw her mouth move, followed by a rather energetic laugh coming from the guy.

Suddenly, as if she could feel the weight of my vaguely interested expression on her back, Jessica turned around and, her smile as wide as it was before, she spotted me. She waved her hand wildly; knowing that wave was meant for me, I offered a tiny, less ostentatious wave back.

Before I knew it, she'd turned back around, kissed the guy on his cheek and started bouncing her way over to my table. Just the speed with which she moved added to my queasiness.

Trying not to watch her hop over, I purposely looked past her until she was stationery again. My eyes strayed back over to the table she'd just been standing at. The burly boy was still there—but he was no longer alone.

This tall, thin blonde girl with a supermodel's face and a body to kill for had taken the seat opposite of him. Her mouth was moving at a frantic pace, one of her long, slender arms reached out as she gestured behind her—gestured at _Jessica_. From the scowl on her face and the frown on his, it was easy to see that they were arguing about something.

I wonder…

Jessica pulled one of the chairs away from the table—the loud squeak drew my attention away from the tiff across the room—and took her seat. "Bella! I'm so glad you're—oh… are you okay?" she asked, her greetings cut off as she got a better look at me. "You look kinda green."

"I'm okay," I told her hurriedly. I didn't want to think about how bad I looked. "Just a little seasickness, that's all. I'll be fine as soon as I get something to drink."

"Seasick? That must suck, and you on a cruise and everything. Did you order a drink yet, or did you want me to go get it?"

I shook my head. "No, thanks. The waiter should be bringing it out soon, but," I said, trying to steer the subject away from my stomach, "how's your trip going so far? Enjoying yourself?"

The little I knew about this girl told me that, if I brought up the right subject—most likely Jessica herself—she would be more than happy to carry the conversation. All I would be expected to do was supply the appropriate responses to any cues. A lot of nodding and well-timed smiles and I could sit back, relax and pray that I wouldn't be introducing my bowl of cereal to my new roommate.

I was partly right. Jessica was all too glad to start talking—but she also wanted a lot more out of me as a listener.

"Definitely. I'm so glad I got to come on this cruise! Not only do I have a great roomie," she gushed, pausing only to smile encouragingly at me, "but I actually ran into someone I used to know!"

There was a sudden break and it took me a second to realize that I'd missed my first cue. "Oh—I mean, you did?"

"Uh-huh. Did you see that dark-haired hunk I was talking to?"

Since she'd seen me staring at her before, I couldn't lie. "Yeah, I did."

"That's Emmett McCarty. We went to the same high school, even though he graduated a few years before me. It was so nice to see him here and get a chance to catch up for a few minutes. He's actually on his honeymoon!"

"His honeymoon? So that blonde girl with him… that's his wife?" If it was, then it was no wonder she looked so mad. The way Jessica was obviously flirting with him, it seemed as if she had a little more than catching up on her mind.

Jessica glanced over her shoulder and, seemingly oblivious to the way the blonde girl was shooting daggers across the room at her, she giggled. "Yup, that's Rosalie Hale… I guess she's Rosalie McCarty now. She was in my school, too."

Even though she was laughing and her tone was light, there was a worried look on her face as she turned back to look at me.

"But enough about them, I must be boring you with talk about people I used to know," she said, suddenly determined to take my attention off of the newlyweds behind her. "Did you hear who else is on the Moonlight? You'll just die when I tell you, just die!"

Well, her exuberance was back. Whoever it was, it had to be _someone_. "I don't know. Who?"

"Mary Alice Brandon!"

That name didn't mean anything to me at all. I shook my head. "I'm sorry… who?"

She looked exasperated, though she still exuded excitement that this was person was on board. "Mary Alice Brandon… you know? Of MAB?"

"Mab? You mean like Queen Mab, from _Romeo and Juliet_?"

"Silly, Bella," she said, her turn to shake her head in amusement. "MAB, the fashion line?"

I was confused. "She named her fashion line after a pagan queen?"

Jessica's explanation was cut off when a waiter finally came out with my ginger ale. This was a different waiter, I noticed, as he sat my drink down carefully in front of me. Unlike the first one, who was short, dark-haired and a little pimply, this guy was tall, blond and he had a very handsome face. I probably stared at him longer than I should have.

I was beginning to think I needed to get off this boat soon; all these really good-looking people were going to give me a complex.

Aware that I was probably ogling him, I thanked him with a stutter and he—Jasper, according to the name tag he wore—left with a curious expression on his face.

Jessica's high-pitched giggle reminded me that I wasn't alone, as much as I wished I could be. Feeling my face heat up, I turned my head to look at her. She was glancing down at the table, her face almost as red as mine surely was.

When she was sure that Jasper had one, she looked up. That coy, flirtatious smile she'd worn when talking to Emmett McCarty was back. "Wasn't he just a cutie? He can serve me _any_time."

I didn't trust myself to answer her so I took a long drink from my soda first. Then, once I swallowed, I managed to say nonchalantly, "He's okay."

Her look of incredible disbelief was too exaggerated to ignore. "Just okay, Bella?" She shook her head. "Well, if he's just 'okay', what do you think about _that_ guy?"

"What guy?"

"That guy sitting right over there… the one who hasn't taken his eyes off of you since he walked in here."


	5. Flirting and Fashionistas

Disclaimer: _The characters in this story are the property of Stephenie Meyer and are only used for fan related purposes. _

* * *

**Murder on the Moonlight**

--

I had a sinking sensation that I knew exactly who would be sitting right behind us. I had no luck and, since I stepped on this cruise, I'd met a grand total of two people who weren't part of the Moonlight crew. One of them, of course, was Jessica; the other, someone I was not too eager to see again, was that green-eyed stranger with the bad attitude. Considering how well my trip has been going, it had to be him.

Daring a glance over my shoulder, I tried nonchalantly to follow the casual point of Jessica's fake fingernail. My face heated up immediately as soon as my eyes locked onto a pair that had been, no doubt, glaring at the back of my head only a few seconds ago.

Yup. It was him, all right.

He was sitting by himself at a table maybe three back from where I was sitting with Jessica. He was sitting on the far end, leaning casually back in his seat, as he stared in our direction. When he saw me and caught my eye, his lips curved into an uneven smile. He didn't look half as angry as he'd been when he left me alone in the hallway but… still. There was no affection in his hard eyes.

I know that I was turning as red as a tomato. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him immediately; it was only after I realized that now _I _was staring at _him_ that I lowered my eyes and turned my head back around. "He's okay, too, I guess," I mumbled, hoping she didn't hear the faint tremble in my voice.

I'm a horrible liar but I wasn't even thinking about that as I lied to her. All I kept seeing was that flat black glare he gave me the first time we met. Now I had the memory of his amazingly attractive smile creeping up on me, keeping my face hot, bothered and definitely colored scarlet.

"Mm-hmm," she said noncommittally.

After taking another sip from my ginger ale in an attempt to stop the rising butterflies in my stomach—a queasiness that had nothing to do with the rocking of the Moonlight—I glanced up at Jessica. With her chin resting on her hand, and a hungry look on her face, she was staring at the guy.

Could she be any more obvious?

Feeling a bit panicky—but not jealous… definitely _not _jealous—I placed my glass down rather loudly on the table. When that caught her attention, I hissed nervously, "Stop staring at him. He'll see you!"

"I wouldn't worry about that, Bella," she giggled, "he's still watching you."

She did, however, take her eyes off of him. I let out a small sigh of relief. I don't know what bothered me more at that moment: that I had captured his eye for some reason, or that he'd caught Jessica's.

Even though she was looking at me again, I could tell that she was still peeking at the boy whenever she thought I couldn't see her. After a few minutes, punctuated every now and then by one of her lighthearted giggles, she mentioned, "He_ is_ quite cute, you know. You should go talk to him."

"Me?" I wasn't surprised to hear that my voice squeaked. I cleared my throat before adding, "Why should I?"

"Well, do you know him?"

For a second, I wondered if a chance meeting in the hallway constituted as knowing him. I shook my head. "No, I don't."

She nodded in his direction. "He obviously wants to know you. Go on and say hi."

"I don't think so," I said quickly. My heart was beating in my chest, thudding so loud that it felt as if it was rattling my ribcage. Just the prospect of going over there and starting up a conversation made me terrified. As if I hadn't already embarrassed myself entirely in front of him…

Jessica pursed her lips, obviously thinking something over, before smiling brightly. "Well, then, can I?"

"Can you what?"

She giggled again. "Do you mind if I go over and talk to him? You don't seem interested and he's _really_ cute!"

My first instinct was to shake my head vehemently and ban her from making any sort of contact with the bronze-haired boy… but I couldn't do that. Besides, what did he mean to me?

"Not at all, Jess," I said, probably faster than I should have. Bringing an overly fake smile to my face, I stood up suddenly, nearing knocking my seat over in my haste. I couldn't really explain it but I didn't want to watch Jessica flirt with another of the cruise's passengers. After digging around the front pockets of my jeans for a few crumpled dollar bills, I placed them on the table to pay for my drink. "I'll see you back at the room."

"Okay, Bella." She was already fluffing up her curls, her eyes zeroing on her target as she followed my lead and got to her feet. "Later!"

We both left the table then, me heading towards the exit and Jessica heading straight towards the guy. I didn't look back—though I was pretty sure I could feel the heat of his stare as I left—and, a little preoccupied, I didn't look forward really, either.

I don't know where I was going at all really, and it was no surprise that, as I hurried out through the exit, I bumped right into someone who was walking into the dining area. Since I was going so fast, I knocked into the considerably tiny shoulder of someone who was going almost as quickly as me. I saw a shock of black hair and an apologetic smile of a petite girl as she accidentally bumped into me.

There was a _thud_ as whatever she was carrying fell to the ground. We both stopped and, as one, looked at the floor. Papers and other more colorful things had fallen everywhere, scattering around us. Feeling guilty, I automatically stooped down to gather as much of it together as I could. My victim obviously had the same idea because, with a loud _clunk _and a sudden throbbing pain, I realized we'd bumped heads.

"Here let me," I heard, and I realized that the beautiful, clear voice I heard was coming from this girl. She was laughing. "Concussions aren't all that in style right now."

It took me a second to realize that she was making a joke. I joined in her laughter as I carefully took a step back. As she scooped all of her strewn papers up, I took the chance to get a better look at her. She was, as I noticed, very short and had an exquisitely featured face. I swear, it was almost as if I was looking at an adorable little pixie—even her short black hair seemed to suit the image… not to mention the outlandish get-up she was in.

I'm sure I had a look of astonishment on my face as I absently rubbed my aching forehead. But, when she stood back up and tilted her head back so she could look at me—she really was tiny—she didn't even act surprised that I was staring at the flowing skirt and brightly colored tank she was wearing.

She grinned. "I'm so sorry about our little crash here. I should've been watching where I was going. I hope I didn't hurt you. I've been told I have a hard head."

My fingers were still rubbing the spot where we'd knocked heads. Feeling sheepish, I dropped my hand immediately. "I'm okay. Are you? I was walking pretty quickly myself."

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine…" She paused there, as if waiting for something. It took me a second to figure out what; when I did, I felt a little like an idiot. Maybe we'd hit our heads a little harder than I thought.

"Bella," I supplied.

Her grin was even wider then. It was like she was smiling at something that only she found funny. Again, though, I didn't get the joke. "You can call me Alice," she said, shuffling her belongings together and rearranging them so she could stick out her tiny, delicate-looking hand.

As I shook her hand, my eyes landed on the pieces of paper and scraps of fabric that she was holding against her chest. I had a flash of intuition. "Do you mean Mary Alice Brandon?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, are you a psychic?"

When I decided that I didn't detect a note of sarcasm in her voice, I shook my head slowly. "Uh… no?"

"A detective, then?"

"Not really."

"Then how did you know?"

I was getting confused now. "Know what?"

"That I was Mary Alice Brandon."

Oh. That. "It was simple, really. When we—I mean, I," I amended, feeling my face flush as I thought of my clumsiness, "knocked into you, you dropped an armful of designs onto the floor. Plus there's the clothing scraps and the way you introduced yourself as Alice."

"Wow," she said, sounding impressed. "And you figured out my identity just from that? And here I was, trying to get up to Vancouver without anyone figuring out I was traveling incognito."

Though she looked more amused than annoyed, I felt guilty. "Well, my cabinmate kind of tipped me off that you were onboard, too."

Alice laughed then, a high, clear tinkle that sounded more like a bell than a laugh. "Makes sense, but I have to wonder who tipped _her _off, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders, offering her my own smile in return. "I guess."

I didn't know what to say then. I wasn't a really big fashion buff—a sweater and jeans is the highlight of my wardrobe—and I still felt embarrassed for nearly mowing her down. And now I felt kind of bad for telling her I knew who she was, especially since I wasn't supposed to know.

But, as it turned out, I didn't _have _to say anything. Just as I was wondering how I was going to say goodbye and continue on my way without looking rude, I heard a loud, excited voice call out to me. "Bella! You've _got _to introduce me to your new friend!"

I wanted to groan but I thought that would look like bad form. Instead, I rolled my eyes before turning around. No doubt about it, there was Jessica—again. I guess her little discussion with Mr. Cute didn't go as well as planned.

I must say that, right before I turned my head, I saw a fleeting look of intense dislike crossing Alice's face. I bet she was quick on the uptake, figuring that Jessica was the roommate who told me all about her. In an attempt to make up for our earlier collision, I decided to leave out the little fact that Alice was this Mary Alice Brandon that Jessica was so excited to hear was onboard.

"Hey, Jessica. I just met Alice," I said, gesturing lightly to her. "She's another passenger, going up to Vancouver."

I'd almost thought that Jessica, since she actually seemed to know all about fashion, would recognize Alice even without me spelling it out for her. But, if she did, she didn't act like she did. She grinned and, waving excitedly, said, "Hello, Alice, it's nice to meet you! I love your outfit!"

Yup. Standard Jessica behavior.

That small expression of dislike I'd swore I saw vanished once Jessica complimented Alice's clothes. With a grin almost as wide as Jessica's, Alice quickly agreed before offering some variation on the praise towards Jessica's tamer, yet just as expensive, clothes.

Neither one of them noticed it when I bowed my head and took my leave.

Thank goodness.


	6. My Father, the Hero

Disclaimer: _The characters in this story are the property of Stephenie Meyer and are only used for fan related purposes. _

* * *

**Murder on the Moonlight**

--

Congratulating myself on how quickly I'd taken to navigating this part of the Moonlight—not to mention, how sneakily I'd left the fashion talk behind me—I made it back to my room in a timely manner. The walk around the deck had done me well and, without the handsome face of that boy to cause the butterflies in my stomach to flutter, I'd completely gotten over my earlier seasickness. I just had to remember to drink some more ginger ale if I felt queasy again later.

I kept my room key in my back pocket and, after a few second's frantic search when I thought I'd misplaced it somewhere, I pulled it out. I must have bent it slightly while I was sitting down but it still worked. I only had to insert it into the slot and pull on the door handle a couple of times before I was back in the room.

It seemed even smaller now than it had before. That, and the stupid candy bars right there made me realize how hungry I was. I'd spent all that time in the dining area and I hadn't had anything to eat at all.

Shaking my head, I wondered if I should go back out and actually check out the Moonlight menu. I knew I wouldn't, though. If there was even a chance that that boy was there, watching for whatever reason the table I'd been sitting at, I knew I wouldn't return just yet.

Instead, I thought I should finally get around to finishing my unpacking. I could just imagine the smug look on Jessica's face if she returned and I hadn't even gone through both of my duffel bags yet. At least I'd gotten the chance to open one before my abating nausea sent me on my mission out of the room. Now that I was back, that was the first one I reached for.

After going over to where I kicked my bag and picking it up off of the floor, I sighed and set it on my bottom bunk. Unpacking my bags was the worst part of going anywhere, I thought as I reached in and grabbed all of the clothes I'd packed. They were disheveled after being knocked over and flung across the floor, the shirts wrinkled and my socks unmatched.

Feeling a little frustrated, I sighed again. Before I could put them in the dresser drawers I would have to fold them all over again.

However, as I reached for a pair of underwear, I saw the familiar silver shine of my cell phone. I'd almost forgotten that I'd thrown it in there before leaving home this morning.

Out of habit, I turned it over and checked to see if there were any missed calls. I gulped when I saw there was one.

Charlie's number flashed up on the screen.

Oops.

I felt a touch of guilt that I'd missed his call. He probably wouldn't be too happy when I returned it; even though Jacob hadn't made it to the cruise, I _had _promised my dad that I would keep my phone on and charged at all times in case he wanted to check up on me.

Weighing the silver phone in my hand, I wondered if I should get it over with now or wait until later. Deciding it would be better to get it over with now than deal with an overly concerned father later—and, quite possibly, a mother if Charlie decided to involve Renee—I quickly dialed the numbers.

Tapping my sneaker against the floor, I almost hoped that Charlie would be busy doing whatever it was as Police Chief of a rinky dink town like Forks.

The phone rang a couple of times, the obnoxious ring sounding in time to my anxious rap-tap-tapping. Just when I thought that my luck might finally be changing, that I could leave a message on his phone assuring him I was fine without actually having to talk to him, the phone cut off mid-ring.

Charlie answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dad." I bit my lip, trying to anticipate Charlie's reaction. Like me, he wasn't a really big talker and it was a rare occurrence when we spoke on the telephone. However, every now and then—more often when Jacob and his hare-brained schemes were involved—Charlie surprised me by being too overprotective. I just hoped this wasn't one of those times.

"Bells? That you?"

He seemed a little more uptight than usual. I slumped my shoulders. It was going to be one of those times. "Yup, it's me."

Charlie let out a sigh of relief that was audible even with my crappy service. "I was wondering what happened to you." He paused. "I thought you were supposed to keep your phone with you?"

That touch of guilt I felt before bloomed into full grown remorsefulness. His words tumbled out like a question and, if I wanted to, I could sidestep them very easily. But I wouldn't—it wasn't the _responsible_ thing to do.

Keeping the phone to my ear, I sat down on my bunk. "I know, Ch—Dad. And I am," I said, silently meaning 'I will', "it's just that I don't get much reception out on the open seas. I barely have two bars." Trying to keep my tone apologetic, I crossed my fingers with my free hand.

"That's okay, honey. I understand," Charlie said agreeably. I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding—even if it was the smallest fib, I hated lying to my dad. "In that case, I'm glad I got a hold of you. How's your trip going?"

Small talk, that was okay. Me and Charlie were pro's at small talk. "It's going well, Dad. I found the docks okay and I haven't fallen into the ocean and drowned or anything," I added, smiling a bit to myself. Charlie knew all too well what it was like to be clumsy.

"That's amazing, Bella," he answered, chuckling. "How about the infirmary? Did you check it out yet?"

I wasn't sure if Charlie was asking from experience as the father of an accident-prone daughter or because heading over to the medical station was the first thing _he _would have done. Either way, I rolled my eyes. It was one thing for me to poke fun at my clumsiness… but my dad? I _was _seventeen—almost eighteen, after all—and I was more than capable of taking care of myself while on this cruise.

Probably.

"Not yet. And I'm still in one piece, too. Amazing."

In the wave of my sarcasm, I conveniently forgot to think about the fact that one of the first things _I _had wanted to do upon boarding the Moonlight was search out the medical center. That, and that—ever since I boarded—I'd already had one collision and one very near-miss. I was lucky that I haven't really needed a doctor yet… but there was no way I was going to tell Charlie that.

Instead, I changed the subject.

"So, how's Jacob?" I still felt guilty about wishing him sicker just because the cruise didn't start of well. Now that I was feeling better myself, I was prepared to hope that his food poisoning was letting now. Well, at least a little bit. And, besides, Jacob was a much safer topic of discussion at the moment than my balance problems.

If Charlie noticed that I had purposely switched from talking about doctors to talking about Jake, he didn't comment on it. I guess he was used to me skirting around certain issues at hand.

"He's doing better, Bells. Billy told me about an hour ago that Jake's finally got his head out of the toilet. He should be a hundred percent for when you get back and he's already talking about meeting you on the docks when you get back."

I can't explain what I felt in that moment. Normally, I would've felt a rush of excitement and the warm fuzzy feeling of affection for my best friend/whatever's plans to greet me when I made it home—but I didn't. I was glad Jake wasn't as sick as he had been but, the second Charlie mentioned the idea of me coming home… me coming home to _Jake… _the most confusing reaction came over me: my attention immediately turned to that beautiful, bronze-haired boy I'd met twice already.

And that terrified me more than I can say.

"That's… that's nice."

I grimaced. I wasn't fooling anyone. Just _why_ was my subconscious choosing to fixate on him at the strangest of times? Sure, he was gorgeous, and, yeah, that was the most alluring smile I'd every seen in my life… but—no.

Jake, Jake, Jake… I was chanting his name to myself. Jacob Black, his beautiful russet skin and thick, lustrous black hair that was so soft I would use it as a pillow if I could—

Oh, goodness. I _really_ wasn't fooling anyone… including myself. Ugh.

I exhaled, all too aware that the stupid, _stupid _butterflies had returned. Waving my hand flippantly, I tried to push them away. The cabin room was cramped enough already. There was no room for sudden doubts or nagging metaphorical insects.

But, you know, Charlie could be a lot more perceptive than I give him credit for. He waited a second before saying cautiously, "Bella, honey? Is everything all right?"

I was just about to come up with some sort of excuse for my lack of enthusiasm when I heard the sudden approach of high-heeled shoes. Against the polished wood of the ship's hallway, someone was _clack—clack—clack_ing this way. The sound, as obnoxious as it was, was probably only obnoxious because I recognized it.

It sounded just like Jessica's shoes had earlier when she was leaving. I guess it was about time for her to return to the room.

And I still haven't unpacked one bit.

I frowned before remembering that I was still on the phone. Actually, it was Charlie's gruff yet quiet voice that reminded me.

"Bells? You still there?"

I gave myself a little shake. "I'm sorry, Dad. I thought I heard something outside of my cabin door." The sound of the shoes got louder and I decided that it would be better for everyone if I ended this conversation now. The last thing I needed was for Jessica to start a round of Twenty Questions if she walked in and I was on the phone. "Everything's okay, I promise. I'm going to go finish unpacking and then take a tour on deck," I improvised, figuring that that would be the truth _eventually_. "I'll keep my phone on me."

"Of course. You take care of yourself, kiddo. I mean it."

For just a second, I imagined that his voice sounded a bit graver than usual. It reminded me of those times when he came home from work after visiting a crime scene. He sounded serious—almost as if he was dreading something that was about to happen.

But, honestly… what could happen on a cruise ship? I've already gotten over my seasickness and I think I've already reached my embarrassment quota for the day. What else could go wrong today?

I offered Charlie a quick chuckle. "I will, Dad. And I'll see you in a couple of days."

We said our goodbyes then and, after closing my phone and marveling at the fact that that was probably one of the longest phone conversations I've ever had with my dad, I set my phone down on my bunk. I would have to slip it into my pocket later on but, as the footsteps seemed to stop right outside my door, I decided not to worry about it just yet.

Looking back on it, that probably wasn't the smartest of ideas.


End file.
